


Melt

by tartanfics



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-03
Updated: 2008-01-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tartanfics/pseuds/tartanfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s going to snow tonight,” Sirius says smugly, as though he has caused it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melt

That winter comes too quickly. Two Christmases after they leave Hogwarts, and Remus is standing on a street corner somewhere in a bit of London that looks like every other bit of London, toeing the slush in the gutter and smoking. His boots are old and tattered, but at least they are mostly waterproof.

He smokes because that’s what you do, not because he likes it. Peter was always sort of bad at it, coughing and clumsy, dropping the fag out the dorm window before it was half done. James does it casually, the way he does a lot of things. Sirius does it gracefully without even trying. Remus does it because he wants to look like Sirius. Because it smells the way Sirius does, though he’s missing the underlying scent of cinnamon and warm fur. He’s cold. He taps ash into the snow.

Remus knows when Sirius arrives, though he comes from behind and is probably trying to sneak up.

“’Lo, Padfoot,” Remus says. Sirius loops an arm around his shoulders and steals the cigarette from between Remus’s two fingers, smoking it with Remus’s head hooked between his arm and his shoulder. Remus leans forward and kisses him on the cheek.

“It’s going to snow tonight,” Sirius says smugly, as though he has caused it.

“It already has snowed, Sirius. Have you not seen the snow?”

“Not the same thing. It’s better when it’s coming down and getting in your hair. Will you come outside and stand in the snow with me tonight?” Sirius doesn’t wear a hat, seems to rely solely on his hair to keep his ears warm. He has a scarf on, though, a ridiculously long red scarf wrapped four times around his neck and still trailing at his knees.

“And freeze my arse off?” Remus asks.

“Warming spells, warming spells, Moony. What else is that wand for?”

Remus grins, a flashing, sudden, blinding and wicked grin, and takes the cigarette back from Sirius. “All dirty jokes aside?”

Sirius yelps in triumph, the kind of triumph he derives from getting Remus to say anything that cannot in any way be construed as scholarly. He stoops to cup a handful of snow off the edge of the sidewalk, packing it into a snowball with his un-gloved and pale fingers.

“You’re going to get frostbite, Sirius. What are you going to do with that snowball?

“Take it home and keep it frozen. It’ll be my pet. I shall call it Rover. I’ll keep it forever.”

“I think we’ve already got enough pets around the house, don’t you?”

Sirius laughs and wraps his arm around Remus’s neck, pulling him close and kissing him on the nose, which is red with cold, and the lips, chapped. Remus drops the cigarette in the compacted snow at their feet. The snowball in Sirius’s hand presses against Remus’s shoulder, leaving a damp spot.

It is already beginning to melt.


End file.
